


And it meant so much

by ofdaffodilsandmoonlight



Category: Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 - Malloy, Voyná i mir | War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
Genre: Angst, Based on a RP, M/M, Mentions of Rape, bad coincidences, death mention, drunk sex but its not explicit, really just abstract as heck, sibling bonds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 08:36:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15069341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofdaffodilsandmoonlight/pseuds/ofdaffodilsandmoonlight
Summary: In which lives are altered, what more is there to say?





	And it meant so much

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Saffiaan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saffiaan/gifts).



> (The italicized she is Andrey's wife, and the italicized he refers to Fedya Dolokhov.)

It began as nothing. A bottle of vodka across a counter, a suggestion, a subtly asked question.

So not exactly nothing, but it didn’t have to mean anything.

And then it was the snow crunching underfoot. Off the streets, _his_ hair as dark as the encompassing night, the only thing keeping him grounded, keeping him from getting lost, from stumbling off into the night. _He_ was only there because he was drunk, because of his pride, because he’d forgotten what it was to love _her_.

There was nothing wrong with _her_.

But this was nothing like _her_ , and _she_ was not here. _She_ could never be the one in this room, fingernails scraping lightly over his skin… making him forget himself, discard his pride under some influence of lips and alcohol.

How dare he.

And Andrey had consented, hadn’t he? And Fedya should have known better, right? And why wasn’t Andrey with his _fiancée_ in the first place?! Of course it came back to him- why shouldn’t it, what said he was to be forgiven?- in the form of one he _did_ love. In the form of her being gone. And he laughed. It was an utterly broken sound, because he knew. And he let her go, no right to make her stay when he was the one who had left first.

Right?

It wasn’t fair to hope she would remain.

Innocence.

No matter how she was his last hope at a decent domestic life, _his_ last line of faith. Faith that maybe it wasn’t all so bad. That humanity was a spark still left in people.

And shame on him for loving again, again. And shame on him for loving.

It was some terrible coincidence that Natasha and Nikolai were siblings. They were thieves, of a sort. Natasha, of Andrey’s faith, and Nikolai, of Galina’s innocence.

 But Andrey was not a child, and not innocent, and he knew that.

 And so he understood, when it was Fedya falling apart in his arms, why- among so many sobs-it was the innocence of his sister he grieved.

   _And they killed her, they killed her, they killed her…_

 And Andrey was still there.

 And Andrey wouldn’t leave, no, this time it was Fedya who left.

 And though, perhaps, this time the souls of Andrey and Natasha would remain bound, the soulof the eldest Dolokhov child was torn away.

 And all that was left to Andrey were two words.

 "Thank you."

 

 


End file.
